Musings on a Name
by Drakelover30
Summary: In the dead of night, Tom often pondered on the meaning of his name. Years later he would meet his namesake...


Disclaimer: I own nothing, other than a tortilla chip shaped like a cat. All Characters belong to JK Rowling and Scholastic Books. I just play in the sandbox with them while no one is looking.

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><p>From his earliest days Tom Riddle knew he was different from the other children at Wool's Orphanage. To add to his strangeness was his name. Tom. Short for Thomas, meaning 'twin' in Aramaic. The other children had loved to taunt him about his name. Calling him the devil's twin or even worse things. The good catholic nuns who ran the orphanage had shared their opinions of the 'demon child' and since then all the children held the accusation in their eyes. Tom could tell very easily what they thought, even without his strange talents.<p>

Tom himself often mused on his name. He wondered if he did have a twin out there somewhere, another just like him. Later he would curse his name. After all if he was someone's twin that would mean he was the copy, the beta, the _inferior. _He vowed to prove himself better than this other. He grew himself in power within the orphanage, the other children stopped mocking him after they felt his wrath. After a few basic displays even the eldest children bowed to him and left him alone.

And then Dumbledore showed up.

The old man proved that Tom hadn't grown enough. Yet he offered a challenge that Tom could not resist. After the first look at Diagon Alley, Tom felt addicted to the power magic could offer. He could use this, he could leave his mark on this world through these people. He would render them afraid to ever speak his name. He would never be shadowed by anyone again.

So time passed for young Tom Riddle. Dumbledore would prove a capable nemesis to his growth but Tom quickly armed himself by getting every other adult in the castle on his side. The librarian was a great coup as she easily let him browse whatever books he wanted and soon his knowledge of the Dart Arts grew to rival even the DADA Professor's.

Soon it was his sixteenth year. He discovered his family was still alive. And he found them. Filthy degenerates huddling together in a hut hissing about bygone glory. _Pathetic_. So he ended his grandfather, and left his uncle alive after the scum revealed his _muggle_ father was still alive.

And so Tom Riddle crossed the road to the manor atop the only hill in Little Hangleton.

A quick _Alohamora_ later and he padded through the house. He sneered at the muggle paintings adorning the walls, though he paused as he noticed a few crests etched into the lintel work in the main hall. He was shocked to realize it was the Slytherin crest carefully placed in the corners. Looking closer at the grand fireplace in the main room he could see serpents subtly etched in the stonework, though it was obvious the mantel had been redone by the muggles. Tom sneered as he looked at what had obviously been the Gaunt Manor before they had degenerated and lost it to the muggles.

There!

The soft murmur of conversation guided his steps deeper into the darkened house. It was obvious the help had gone home and only a few lamps remained lit to allow the family to move around. Tom stalked along before halting to observe the muggles within the parlor. His breathing hitched as the fire inside the parlor illuminated the face of his father. Here at least was his twin. This man who looked exactly like him, only more ravaged by time.

It took only an instant to decide to kill him.

The idea had haunted him for years after all. The father who abandoned him and the twin he vowed to defeat. Now embodied in one person. Tom smirked as he slammed the parlor door open.

"Hello Father" was all he said as he watched the muggles whirl around to look at him.

"Devil's Spawn!" was all old Missus Riddle was able to say before the killing curse hit her, freezing her fearful expression on her visage forever. Her husband followed within a second. All that was left was his father. A quick _crucio_ shook his out of his stunned stupor. Tom smiled as he watched his father cower on the floor before him.

"I didn't know! I DIDN'T KNOW!" He screamed as his son bore down on him.

"Now, now Father. You shouldn't lie to your son." Tom snarled as he hurled another _crucio_ at the muggle. A quick wandless spell let Tom tear through the muggle's mind. He deliberately threw the memory of his Mother, begging Tom Sr. not to abandon her and her unborn child, into the forefront fo the man's mind. His father collapsed into himself as his son loomed over him. "Tell me, why do you deserve any more mercy than you offered her?" He sneered as he watched the man cower before him. The muggle only shivered before him, seemingly unable to speak beyond whimpers. Another _crucio_ elicited a delightful scream before Tom decided to end it.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The hissed spell rocketed to the muggle who fell back onto the floor with a satisfying thump. Tom cackled in delight as he watched his father fall. He was Cain slaying Abel, and getting away with it. Looking down at his 'father' Tom suddenly noticed the differences between them. While his general features were the same, he himself had a far more angular aristocratic look than the plump muggle did. It was obvious now that his mother had contributed more to his features that he first thought. Still the overall result was that bother father and son bore and eerily resemblance to each other. Tom soon mused over the fact both of them had shared the same name, apart from his grandfathers name.

Marvolo.

The one sign he had of his wizarding heritage and the power of his bloodline. And now that he had pruned the family tree he was the Alpha and Omega. He was Cain righteously slaying his brother to save their blood. He was the true one while his father was the pale shadow twin of him. Tom's cackling continued unabated as he walked back down the hillside. His uncle was swiftly brainwashed and Tom was back in London within the hour. As he settled back onto his rough cot in the orphanage he grinned as the memory came back. His cackling haunted the other orphans as Tom settled into sleep pleased with a day well spent.

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><p>AN: Please Rate and Review. Any feedback is appreciated.<p> 


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